


Strictly Taboo

by Poppy Pelican (Sierra_Sitruc)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Royai - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25416481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sierra_Sitruc/pseuds/Poppy%20Pelican
Summary: AU: Lust has a gift that is a little more like her namesake...
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 14
Kudos: 120





	Strictly Taboo

Havoc’s new girlfriend was sex on legs—to the point Falman almost fell out of his desk chair getting a good look at her. Roy was less interested, allowing a cursory glance and nothing more. He watched as Hawkeye rolled her eyes at the men, but her lips twitched in amusement when Havoc stumbled over his introductions and accidentally called Breda, “Second Lieutenant Breast.”

  
Roy returned to the paperwork in front of him, pretending to work as he listened to Solaris flirt shamelessly with Havoc. Roy smiled to himself, grateful Havoc had found a new girlfriend already. He’d been unbearably sulky about having to leave his old one behind during the move to Central.

  
During a drawn-out reenactment of the Lieutenant Breast flub, Hawkeye stepped out of the office. For some reason, her absence felt more palpable than usual. Roy’s eyes kept flickering to the door, waiting for her to enter. When she returned, a tremor went through him as she focused warm brown eyes on him. He found himself fighting not to stare at the natural sway of her hips, his mouth watering.

  
He swallowed thickly when she approached his desk, an irrepressible hunger growing as his eyes dragged up her body back to her face. Her brow crinkled in concern at his expression. He hoped she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She held out a stack of papers.

  
“These are the visitor records from Hughes’s office. Do you want me to go through it first, or do you want that honor, sir?” she asked.

  
Right. The investigation. Nothing like grief to destroy the pleasant thoughts about the way his lieutenant filled out her uniform. Disgusted with himself, he took the papers.

  
“I’ll go over it first,” he said. He was sure it was a dead end, but he owed it to Hughes to look at every possibility. He would put everything—even his ambitions—on hold until Hughes had justice.

*

Lust had never had such a hard time bending men to her will before. Jean Havoc had been so easily snared by her figure she thought the secrets of his team would come pouring out of him. But after a week, Jean had fucked her sideways—never saying a word about his job. It was infuriating.

  
Having already infiltrated the group as Jean’s girlfriend, it would be tricky to seduce one of the other men of Mustang’s team without raising their suspicions. If she failed again, she would lose her chance. So she’d approached it from a different angle. Mustang was focused purely on the investigation into Hughes’s murder, and like Hughes, was close to the Elric brothers. Lust knew seducing him would be challenging, if not impossible. The man had barely looked at her the first time she met him—unheard of in Lust’s experience unless the man was truly devoted to something else—a wife, a religion. In Mustang’s case, it was his obsession with finding his best friend’s killer.

  
Lust prepared for failure but remained optimistic Mustang’s more base instincts would overpower that drive for vengeance. If he threw himself at her, it would divide Mustang from Havoc, or if he set his eyes on any other women, he’d at least be occupied with something other than his nosy investigation. It wasn’t ideal, but it would prevent Father from losing a potential sacrifice if she succeeded.

  
She’d flirted with Havoc while watching, waiting for Mustang to crack under her influence. For a moment, she thought she had him when his stoic lieutenant walked toward his desk and it looked like he forgot how to speak. It was exactly the look Lust wanted from him.

  
Then he’d smoothly recovered, averting his eyes dutifully from his subordinate. Well, perhaps a few more days would wear him down…

*

  
Riza knew Havoc’s girlfriend had entered the office without looking up from her work. Havoc leapt out of his seat faster than he would if the fuhrer himself had appeared. Sure enough, Solaris strolled in with a liquid gait, dripping with confidence. Riza remembered what she’d overheard Havoc telling Breda and a blushing Fuery about her. Something about coming so hard he’d blacked out. Morbid curiosity had Riza wondering how she’d done it.

  
Riza’s gaze slid to the colonel who was on the phone, too enthralled in his conversation to acknowledge the office’s visitor. With the others all holding court with Solaris, and the colonel facing away toward the window, Riza grabbed the opportunity to study him. The colonel had been incredibly tense the past couple of days. Every time she went near him, he was either tapping his pen or grinding his teeth. Today her fingers itched to massage the tension from his broad shoulders, but that wasn’t professional. Even considering their long friendship it would be too intimate to touch him that way.

  
All of their touches had been accidental, or necessary for work. Even at Hughes’s funeral when she had longed to hug him, comfort him in any way she could, there had been nothing to do but stand by his side. How inappropriate it would have been to offer comfort when he hadn’t asked for it. How inappropriate it would have been for him to ask. She bit down on her lip, giving his back another once over.

  
It was then she realized someone was watching her. Solaris. Her piercing eyes made Riza feel exposed and reckless—like Solaris knew exactly what Riza was contemplating. Holding back a blush, she opened a new file with more gusto than necessary.

  
As she read through the file, the words began to blur, her eyes heavy. Solaris left, blowing a kiss to Havoc which Breda jokingly pretended to intercept and put on Fuery’s cheek. Everyone else laughed, but Riza was too groggy. A wave of heat rolled through her muscles, and when she checked her reflection in the restroom, her cheeks were rosy. She returned to her desk feeling restless, suspicious she had caught a bad cold. Terrible timing because they were busier than ever. Hopefully she wouldn’t need any sick leave.

  
She powered through, slogging through everything much slower than usual. Her body also seemed more attuned to the colonel’s than usual. She could admit she was always aware of him, partly because of her duty to protect him, partly because of the attraction she’d felt toward him since she was a girl. Still, this was more intense, like his body was a powerful magnet and she was helplessly resisting the pull.

  
A ball of pure want twisted in her belly, and she gave up and laid her head on the desk. She must have a fever. That was the only explanation.

  
“Hawkeye? Are you awake?” Havoc whispered.

  
“Yes,” she said dully. She sucked in a breath, hoping her head would clear.

  
“Maybe you should go home early. You look like you’re burning up,” he said, no longer whispering.

  
The colonel heard that. “Lieutenant.” Her eyes flickered to him through heavy eyelids. A jolt of desire ran through her as he looked her over in concern. She was immediately very wet between her legs, like she was by herself in bed, fantasizing about—

  
“Sir, permission to leave early? I’m not feeling well,” she blurted, staggering to her feet.

  
The colonel studied her quickly, and she clamped down hard on her lip, trapping a moan before it could escape as she imagined his hands where his eyes were looking. Or better yet, his tongue.

  
“Permission granted. Get some rest.”

  
Something was very wrong, but she’d rather die than explain it to him. Or anyone. Her hands trembled as she gathered her things.

  
“Forgive my bluntness, but you look terrible. Can I walk you home?” Havoc asked.

  
Riza hesitated. She hated to look weak, although it was too late for that. The sweat was gathering at her temples.

  
“You might need someone to walk your dog for you,” he said, providing an excuse for her to accept his assistance.

  
Black Hayate would need a walk. Shouldering her bag, she shuffled out of the office, disturbed by the increasing ache as she walked away from the colonel. She’d endured worse, as a memory of flames on her back scuttled briefly to the front of her thoughts. This would be a walk in the park.

*

Hawkeye was sicker than Jean had guessed. She’d willingly let him help her home, which had been alarming enough, but then she periodically stopped to lean against buildings for support, gasping like she was short of breath. He thought he heard her whimper.

  
This was bad.

  
“Maybe we should head to a doctor instead,” he suggested.

  
The look on her face was deadly. “No.”

  
“I could have Solaris come over and—”

  
“Definitely no. I’ll be fine.” Then she slumped to the ground, panting. “I’m not sure—I don’t think I’m actually sick,” she said, voice hushed.

  
Jean squatted beside her. “If you’re not sick, then what the hell is happening?”

  
“I’m not sure,” she repeated. “I just know—alchemy can do strange things, and something happened to Hughes. And now…” she trailed off. “This is different. I feel…compelled.”

  
Unnerved, he reached to light a cigarette. “Compelled, huh? To do what?”

  
Hawkeye looked away from him. “I…don’t want to say.”

  
He suddenly remembered a week ago when he’d felt off himself. Not to the degree Hawkeye was suffering, but he had been uncommonly insatiable. He looked at her again with a more critical eye. What he’d mistaken for a fever certainly matched his experiences in bed with a woman. He recoiled as bile rose in his throat. How was it possible to influence people this way? Even the resilient lieutenant in front of him.

  
“I’ve had that feeling myself, just last week,” he said lowly.

  
Hawkeye narrowed her eyes. “I don’t remember you having to leave the office.”

  
“Well, that could be because I had a willing girlfriend to take my, uh, urges out on.”

  
“I see,” Hawkeye muttered.

  
“You’re not dating anyone, are you?” he asked hopefully. “Or have any…potential partners who could…be of service?”

  
Her face wrinkled in disgust. “No.” She looked ready to reach for her gun. “And don’t you dare offer yourself.”

  
He laughed, despite everything. “Well, I could ask around the team—"

  
“No,” she said firmly. “I’ll take care of this myself.”

  
“I suppose you have to, if you aren’t going to ask for—"

  
He didn’t see her foot until it had knocked him on his ass.

*

Jean left Hawkeye at her apartment, bullying Black Hayate to come with him. The dog whined, trying to head home until Jean stopped and shared a chicken sandwich with him. When he made it back to the office, Mustang was the only one left at his desk, the others all absent for lunch.

  
“Black Hayate?” Mustang asked, more to Jean than the dog.

  
“I’m now his babysitter until further notice,” Jean said, feeling betrayed when the dog ran to sit by Mustang’s side.

  
Mustang reached down to scratch the dog’s head distractedly. “The lieutenant is that sick?” It was obvious he wanted to sound light, but the undercurrent of worry snuck through.

  
Jean debated how to approach this with Mustang. Hawkeye had very reluctantly given permission for him to explain it to the others—only because it could relate to their investigation. She’d also promised violence upon anyone who brought it up in front of her.

  
“About that…Hawkeye isn’t sure she’s sick in the traditional sense.”

  
Mustang was unamused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  
“I’ve taken to calling it the Plague of Frustration, sir,” he said, unable to help himself. “Sexual frustration, that is.”

  
Now his superior’s expression had gone flat. “What the hell does this have to do with Hawkeye taking a sick day? Are you saying she left because—she was—” He looked like he was short circuiting.

  
“Maybe let’s talk about it over coffee, yeah?” Jean suggested, wanting to be away from prying ears. “That café with the terrace seating—so young Mr. Hawkeye can come,” he added, gesturing to Black Hayate.

  
Mustang agreed, although Jean could tell the colonel was skeptical and on a short fuse.

  
Jean didn’t know much about Mustang and Hawkeye’s past before the military. It was understood amongst the team that it wasn’t talked about. He knew Hawkeye’s father had taught Mustang alchemy, and through him had met Hawkeye at a young age. Jean didn’t get the impression they were especially friendly back then, but he knew they were close now—protective of one another. As superior and subordinate, they were professional in every way, particularly Hawkeye. Outside the office, he knew they occasionally met up as friends, mostly with other members of the team.

  
Yet even with their strange, ineffable friendship, they never spoke of anything that would reveal deeper intimacy. Which was why Jean wished he had suggested a bar instead of a café while bringing up the lieutenant’s shocking display of “frustration,” as he was going to refer to it. There was no way he could say, “Hawkeye was too horny to work, sir.”

  
Well, he could say it. He just didn’t want to add another bruise to the one Hawkeye gave him. He couldn’t imagine Mustang taking this well.

*

Roy held his mug halfway to his mouth, where it hovered, unmoving. He processed what Havoc told him. On the one hand, he wasn’t sure if he should take it seriously or not. He’d never heard of such a thing, and yet three of them had already been hit with the illness, or whatever the hell he should call it. Maybe it was contagious? Could be nothing more than a bizarre prank. But what benefit would anyone get from Havoc fucking his girlfriend’s lights out? Roy’s bout with it, if that’s even what it was, had been nothing like that. Maybe he’d needed more personal time with his hand than normal—or a lot more than normal—but he’d still been able to go to work and function.

  
He’d seen the lieutenant that morning. Her cheeks were rosy, lips pouty and swollen. She sounded breathless as she spoke. What had seemed like an illness, now with his perspective changed…He discreetly adjusted himself. He didn’t need to see his lieutenant like that. He shouldn’t think about what she was doing back at her apartment, all alone…

  
Havoc coughed loudly. “Colonel?”

  
“What was that again?’ Roy asked, finally taking a drink of his now lukewarm coffee.

  
“I asked if you had any of your girlfriends help you out, if you know what I mean.”

  
“I got through it on my own, thank you very much. I’m not a slave to my baser needs.”

  
Havoc scoffed. “Oh! But me and Hawkeye are?”

  
Roy couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that Riza Hawkeye was dealing with—frustration—with less fortitude than Jean Havoc. “Right. Well. Hawkeye will get through it. Maybe it’s just…harder on women?” He felt absurd even saying it aloud.

  
“I have a theory,” Havoc said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “See, you and me—we go out and enjoy ourselves. Even when Hawkeye joins us at the bar, she never gets drunk, never gets too flirty with the bartender. When was the last time Hawkeye even had a boyfriend around?”

  
“Not since what’s-his-face who turned out to be afraid of guns,” Roy said thoughtfully. Maybe there was something to the theory. Of course, Roy had some inkling as to why the lieutenant was so hesitant to let loose. While he’d done his best to cover her secrets to flame alchemy with scars, he knew she was afraid it wasn’t enough. She chose her partners carefully.

  
“She just doesn’t give into her wilder side. And whatever this is, she seemed to be in agony. I wonder who did this?”

  
Roy also wanted to know, but he was caught up by the first part of Havoc’s words. Was Hawkeye really at home in agony? He looked down at her dog, curled up at his feet. To send away Black Hayate, she had to be in a bad place. Against his will, his mind began to supply ideas of what her agony might look like. He erupted with jealousy that Havoc of all people took her home, watched her so overtaken by want that he said she’d practically collapsed on the way home.

  
“I suppose the first thing is to ask the others if they’ve had any symptoms.” He scratched his head, at a loss. He really hoped it was nothing more than a prank. If it wasn’t…he’d have to kill whoever had brought down his closest subordinate.

*

For so long, Hawkeye was off limits. First as his master’s young daughter, then her father had just died. Roy wasn’t going to consider her when she was so vulnerable. Then they were both in the military and before he knew it, she was completely unattainable as his subordinate. It seemed simple to keep her in that category of unavailable women—like women in relationships. He never let himself go there. He kept Riza Hawkeye in a neat little box on the shelf: friend, confidante, his compass. Not lover.

  
Now that box had broken, opening up a slew of fantasies he’d been suppressing. If their enemy had wanted to distract him, they were thoroughly succeeding. This was almost worse than what he’d been feeling the past few days on his own. That had been mindless want—this had a target. A very forbidden target.

  
After work, he drove straight home and stormed into his shower. He set the temperature to cold. Once he felt thoroughly doused, he dried and dressed before giving into a lesser temptation than the one he had in mind. He picked up the phone and called Hawkeye. He told himself it was just to make sure she was okay—not to give her the opportunity to ask him for help. Help he shouldn’t give her.

  
It took several rings for her to answer. When she did, he was rewarded with a breathy, “Hello?”

  
“Lieutenant. Just—calling for a wellness check.” He was an idiot. An idiot who was already so aroused he was going to need to take an ice bath to get through this.

  
“Colonel?” Did she just whimper? His thighs flexed, fighting to relieve the tension building in his groin. “I’m surviving. Thank you for your concern, sir,” she said, as polite and distant as she could sound while panting into the phone.

  
“So far, it seems just you, Havoc and me have been hit with—the Plague of Frustration, as he calls it,” he said, hoping he sounded calm and teasing, and not desperately turned on.

  
“It happened to you?” she asked, disbelieving. Then he heard her, muffled like she had covered the mouthpiece, but it was there: a primal moan.

  
Keep it together, he warned himself. “Uh, yes. Though to a lesser degree than you and Havoc. We are trying to figure out why that might be.”

  
“Mhm, I might know why.”

  
He waited for her to answer, hanging onto the phone like it possessed the key to becoming fuhrer. The lieutenant said nothing for a moment, simply breathing unevenly.

  
“It’s just been far too long since I’ve…been with anyone.” She laughed humorlessly. “Havoc put the idea in my head, but seeing how you and him have been able to work and function…”

  
Roy’s free hand had finally stopped listening to his brain and stroked himself through his pants. He was a little disgusted with himself, but a bigger part of him was hoping that on the other end of the phone, his lieutenant had her hand between her legs mimicking his strokes.

  
“I could—” He coughed as his throat went dry. He shouldn’t ask. She would shoot him. “I mean, if you wanted—just as one friend helping out another friend. I could. Help.”

  
She was quiet. Either planning how to kill him, or…considering his offer.

  
“I hate to think of you suffering when I could do something about it,” he continued. Not to mention how much he wanted to help rather than her ask someone else.

  
“What about the fraternizing laws, sir?”

  
“Forget about them. These are extraordinary circumstances.”

  
“I don’t want—” His heart stopped. “It could ruin your career. And mine.”

  
His grin stretched painfully across his cheeks. “That’s not a no, lieutenant.”

  
“It’s not a yes either. We both know it would be a bad idea.”

  
“Or it could simply help you through this difficult time.”

  
“And what do you get out of it?” she countered. “I don’t want…a pity fuck.” The last part was a whisper.

  
“Oh, lieutenant,” he was near ready to come in his pants. “I’m not offering myself as some kind of sacrifice to you. I plan to thoroughly enjoy it.”

  
“I need to think about it,” she said, unceremoniously hanging up on him. Crippling disappointment flowed over him. He hoped he hadn’t screwed everything up between them. Maybe he’d pushed her too far.

  
Roy had barely returned the phone to the receiver when it rang.

  
“Hello?”

  
“Come over. Now,” Hawkeye said, and it ended with a wanton moan.

  
Roy didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be right there.”

*

Riza spent half the day waiting for a reprieve from the damning ache. Her own hands and fingers could satisfy her only for a moment, then the inferno was back with a vengeance. Her appetite was nonexistent, reading a book was futile. She wanted only one thing, from one man.

  
Now, knowing the colonel was on the way to her apartment to have sex with her…she was ravenous. She stepped into the cold shower for the third time that day, attempting to gain control of herself. As it stood, she feared she would leap on him the moment he arrived at her door.

  
Realizing how pointless dressing was, she slipped on a silky, floral robe—a feminine indulgence she self-consciously hoped the colonel would like. She was fretting over putting on underwear or not when she heard a firm knock on the door.

  
All of her nerves left her as the otherworldly desire took hold again. How many years had she wanted this man? Her legs trembled beneath her as she rushed to let him in.

  
Riza didn’t know what she expected—maybe the colonel posing with carefully crafted cockiness against the door frame, ready to tease her for wanting him so badly. Instead, she had hardly gotten the door ajar before he pushed it aside and gathered her in his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.

  
She sighed in relief as his lips found hers, his tongue eager and seeking. He tasted like tea and what could only be him. Her knees buckled as he pressed her back against the closed door. Oh god. He was already hot and hard, and her core squeezed tight, impatient to have it inside her.

  
“Lieutenant, what are you wearing? I—fuck—” His hands were frantic, fluttering down to her hips, over the curves of her ass. He bunched the silk in his hands, gasping.

  
“There’s nothing underneath,” she hissed as his mouth trailed down to her neck.

  
“Fuck. Let me—I didn’t come here just to maul you,” he muttered, almost to himself. He dropped to his knees, then his dark eyes looked at her meaningfully. She knew what he was asking.

  
“Unnggh, please.”

  
She was already swollen and ready for him, and the touch of his mouth to her clit made her scream in pleasure. Her thighs clenched around him as he supported her legs with his shoulders, unable to stand up herself any longer. His tongue glided back and forth, his pace matching the sharp gasps escaping her. She should’ve known he would read her in bed as well as he did in the office. Not fair.

  
Her orgasm hit hard and fast, aided by whatever spell she was under, her eyes teared up from the pleasure rushing through her. She slumped back against the wall, chest heaving.

  
“Better?” He asked, smirking up at her. He looked so insanely sexy with her legs wrapped around him. Like he belonged there.

  
“Hmm,” she said thoughtfully, allowing him to put her down on her feet. “I may need one more thing from you though.”

  
Maybe it was the confidence of seeing how openly he was lusting after her, from his eyes raking over her to his unmistakable erection, but she felt like a powerful temptress.

  
She nudged him toward the wall, keeping him at arm’s length as she untied the robe and let it puddle to the ground. She delighted in his hungry stare, winking as she twirled around and sauntered to the bedroom. She didn’t worry about him seeing her back like other lovers. Her heart swelled at the thought of finally having Roy as a lover.

  
He was right behind her by the time she entered the bedroom. “You are going to kill me, lieutenant. And here I always thought it’d be with a gun,” he said as she turned to grab him by the tie.

  
Her fingers began to make quick work of him. “It’s not fair I’m standing here naked in front of my superior while he’s fully dressed.” She let her hands trace down his chest, dipping into his waistband and tugging his shirt free with more groping than was required, but she needed to feel his skin, was addicted to the ragged breaths he took with every touch of her body to his.

  
“We need an equivalent exchange, you say?” He fastened their mouths together for a moment. She could taste herself there. “I recall being on my knees earlier,” his voice was husky.

  
Wordlessly, she slithered to the floor at his feet, before letting her mouth caress his cock through the fabric of his pants. She purposefully moaned against him, letting the vibrations tease him.

  
His hands went into her hair, which was loose and damp against her back, gently wrapping the strands between his fingers as she nimbly undid his belt and shimmied his pants out of the way until his member was free. She watched him watching her as she ran her hand up his thigh and around to the base of his cock, holding it steady as she guided him past her lips. He throbbed against her tongue as she worked him deeper into her mouth. She couldn’t get all of him in, so she used her hands for the rest. His pupils were dilated wide, his eyes rarely blinking while she worked his erection, memorizing the grunts he tried to hold back. It was a marvel to see the colonel falling apart under her command. Her body spiraled with heat again until she had to reach her hand between her legs.

  
“Ah—ah—lieutenant. Maybe. Hold off. Unless you—”

  
She retreated slowly, making sure to drag her tongue across the head before she leaned back.

  
“No, I want…” she didn’t finish, challenging him with only her eyes. If she was only going to have Roy for one night, she wanted him inside her.

  
“You do want this, right?” he asked, adorably uncertain. She stood, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  
“I wouldn’t have called you back if I didn’t,” she said.

  
“Then why did you hang up in the first place?”

  
“Just because I think we shouldn’t, doesn’t mean I don’t want to. And the regret I felt not taking you up on the offer—I instantly knew I had to call you back.”

  
“I’m so happy you did,” he murmured, leaning to kiss her. He pulled back again. “But—I know what Havoc said about himself, but if you wouldn’t usually go down on your superior officer…”

  
Now she understood. Her cheeks flushed. “I’ll admit, my inhibitions are a lot lower. My tastes haven’t changed though.” She ran her hands along his broad shoulders, skimming down to his biceps. “You really haven’t caught me looking at you before?”

  
He groaned. “No. How long have you been looking?”

  
She smiled, aiming for coy and flirty to cover her nerves. “I don’t know. Always? Even when you were my father’s student, I remember being secretly pleased his apprentice was so good looking.”

  
Roy chuckled softly. “So you’re saying…I’m your type.”

  
“I’m saying, I’ve wanted to have you in my bed since I was a teenager.” She rubbed her naked body against his, relishing the feel of him. “And if I don’t have you inside me soon, I’m going to shoot you.”

  
It was easy from there to fall onto her neatly made bed, legs entwined. She inhaled the smell of his hair, clean and with a little hint of his natural scent. So good. She hugged him closer, letting his mouth worship her breasts while she rubbed her folds against his erection, slippery and hot. The ache was building again, much like it had been all day, an emptiness that needed filled.

  
“Colonel, hurry up,” she begged, struggling to bring their hips together with the way he had her pinned.

  
He glanced up at her, and what he saw reflected in her eyes made his burn even brighter. Rearing back, he hitched her legs around his hips and guided himself inside her, the wide head sending waves of rapture through her as he pushed past her opening and into the fluttering, swollen softness. Once connected at their most intimate parts, she closed her eyes, savoring the sensation of completeness. Did she ever think she could have the colonel like this? Even once?

  
Now she finally knew what it was like to have his body, to have him trembling with want as he began to thrust steady and passionately above her, what he could do with his tongue twisting with hers while she met his thrusts back with fervor. Her core clenched down, a torrent of pleasure building with each slam of his hips. She was close to the edge, watching him fight with himself to hold out—denying himself for her—

  
She pressed their mouths together, one hand lost in his thick, dark hair, the other encouraging him as deep inside her as he could go. Then she tipped over into blessed oblivion, moaning into his mouth.

  
It was easy to ignore her drowsiness when she was still so eager to take in everything she could of him. He leaned back, arms shaking. She caught his desperate, searching look—needing guidance.

  
Her lips curled. Oh, it would be best if he didn’t finish inside her. It was stupid.

  
It didn’t matter. She wanted him with every fiber in her being. She wrapped her legs around him, giving him permission.

  
The tortured whimper he gave her was worth all the risk as he lost himself in her at last, restraint dissolving as he pounded into her with abandon. He grabbed her hips and angled them so that when he came, she felt every inch of him pulsing inside her.  
He rolled off her, leaving a warm, delicious ache behind. He stayed close, but not as close as another lover might—as if he were uncertain of where they stood. The feeling was mutual. How do you go from colleagues—friends—to one night stand?

  
“How do you feel?” he asked, after several minutes of comfortable silence. “Less…frustrated?”

  
“Yes. But I’m starving,” she said, her stomach growling quietly. “I couldn’t eat—before.” She wondered if the break would last, now that she finally felt sated.

  
“I see. I’m glad you took me up on my offer then.”

  
She turned to catch him grinning boyishly. Ridiculously charming. It almost had her telling him the truth—that she had been ready to call him. But however amazing being with him was, they could never be together officially, so what was the point in bringing it up?

  
“Me too,” she said, pulling the blanket up to ward away the chill.

  
She must have dozed off because the colonel nudged her awake, and she half-wondered if he wanted another round but instead, he was holding a plate with a sandwich and fruit.

  
“You should eat before you go to bed,” he said.

  
“Thank you,” she said, sitting up and taking the plate. It was then she noticed he was completely dressed. “Are you leaving?” She prayed she didn’t sound like a clingy girlfriend.

  
His cheeks reddened. “You want me to go?”

  
“You’re the one who looks ready to leave. And it’s getting late.”

  
“I just stepped out to the market on the corner because you were out of bread,” he said defensively.

  
Oh. Oh. She couldn’t stop the smile that crossed her face. “Well, once again I’m completely naked and you aren’t, sir.”

  
“I took the liberty of making myself a sandwich, too,” he said, pointing to her nightstand where another plate sat. Her heart felt light. He had planned to stay. And eat it in bed with her. “Have to keep everything equal, you agree?” he asked, loosening his tie.

  
“Hmm, I think that’s a good idea.”

*

Roy hadn’t known eating sandwiches naked in bed with Hawkeye would be more intimate than coming inside her. The mix of scars and tattoos on her back were carelessly exposed through a curtain of hair, and she had crumbs on her chin that he refused to mention. His chest felt tight, as it often did when he was alone with her. While she had always been off limits as a romantic partner, any lustful thoughts quickly shoved away, he had never censored himself to feelings of friendship…which had long, long ago turned to love. Having her as a lover, though…it might make him too greedy. He’d want to have it all.

*

“Mustang left that woman’s house this morning while it was still dark,” Envy reported. “He had that look humans get when they did something bad but they liked it.”

  
Lust felt triumphant. If this didn’t keep the colonel distracted from his investigation, she didn’t know what would. Though a small part of her felt proud of the lieutenant, woman to woman. It must have been something to bed a man like Mustang.

  
“Thank you, Envy. I’ll keep getting what intel I can from Havoc. He could still report any rifts between his superior and his favorite subordinate.”

  
“Heh, I hope it’s this simple to keep from killing a sacrifice candidate,” Envy’s words were both skeptical and hopeful. “You’d think it’d be easier to find five.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first FMA fanfic. I do have another one I'm editing that I'll post soon! Please tell me what you think because quarantine has me desperate for attention, haha! I've mostly been working on my original stuff the past few years, but I am using fanfic to practice my smut. Feel free to give constructive criticism.
> 
> Also, I apologize for any timeline issues that were done for the sake of the plot. Thanks for reading!


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